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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586919">i'm not your fucking theseus</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dullrockets/pseuds/dullrockets'>dullrockets</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, ig, jsut a whole lot of angst, there's not really much else in here</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:06:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,971</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586919</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dullrockets/pseuds/dullrockets</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>tommy isn't theseus.</p><p>techno thinks otherwise</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i'm not your fucking theseus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmicpunishment/gifts">karmicpunishment</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>mel, if i dont draw fast enough, this is your gift. happy birthday. not wilbur but wilbur's there.</p><p>warnings: panic attacks, food mentions, there's a line about implied (mild) poverty but it's not a huge part of it</p><p>WRITTEN PRE-JANUARY FIFTH</p><p>disclaimers: one, none of the actions in this fic are romantic. don't ship minors. two, if any of the ccs state they're uncomfortable with these types of fics, i will take this down immediately.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy giggled, holding onto his uncle as if he would disappear as soon as he let go. They had just been outside, sparring or something, but had quickly gone inside when the sun had started to go down. Tommy had pinned Techno down when he was distracted, holding a wooden sword to his neck in victory. He would’ve argued back, but Tommy had just looked so happy, he let it slide and shook his head with a soft smile.</p><p> </p><p>“You won, Theseus,” he had said, putting the nickname in nonchalantly. Tommy looked puzzled, for a moment, dropping the arm holding the sword and letting the other rest on his chin.</p><p> </p><p>“What does that mean, Techie?” He asked, in wonder, thinking back to all the names he had heard in his life. After around fifteen seconds of standing there <em> (it had to have been at least five minutes-) </em> , Tommy shrugged and turned to go back to the house. After all, Dad was going to berate them if they didn’t get back before mobs started to spawn. In his logical mind, he knew his uncle would protect him, but his heart was terrified that Techno would run before he could catch up, locking him out before he could get in.</p><p> </p><p>That would never happen though. Techno loved him, and he loved Techno, as much as he loved the rest of his family. Techno even promised he’d protect him! He was ninety-nine percent sure that he said he’d protect him until the day he died, which was probably, like, forever, since he never died once in Tommy’s life! And Tommy was really old, like 8, so he probably never died at all! And in his brain, that made sense.</p><p> </p><p>“Tommy! C’mon, you're walking so slow. Don’t you have the energy of a placeholder? You gotta catch up or I won’t read you the story I was telling you about earlier!” Techno shouted, though his monotone voice made him sound only mildly inconvenienced. After hearing this, he bolted from the spot he was trudging through, and ran right into Techno’s waist ten seconds later.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m here! See? See me? Now you have to read it to me!”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, Tommy, I will. But first you gotta eat dinner, and brush your teeth. And I know you haven’t been!”</p><p> </p><p>“Aww, come on, Techie,” he whined in protest, “it doesn’t really matter, does it?”</p><p><br/><br/>“Yes it does. C’mon already,”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine!” He replied, probably out of spite, elongating the ‘e’ as long as possible. And then, immediately after, completely changing the subject, “D’y’know what we’re having for dinner? I’m hungry.”</p><p> </p><p>Technoblade merely shook his head, continuing to speed walk towards the cottage. Every twenty steps or so, he looked back to make sure Tommy was still behind him, and he was staring at him eerily every single time. Like kids do, obviously.</p><p> </p><p>Phil was at the door when they got there, relief written all over his face, immediately wrapping Tommy in a hug. “I’m glad you got back safe. I’ve already seen some skeletons!”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes widened, fear spread all over his face, a slight pale coming over him as he thought about the consequences that could’ve come, but quickly returned to normal at Phil’s hands ruffling his hair. He giggled, flushing red, and swatted at his hands, </p><p>“St<em> ooooo </em>op, Dad! Stop it! How are you dodging my wrath?!”</p><p> </p><p>Techno laughed, a bit, then ran up the stairs, probably to wait for Tommy in his room. He did that, a lot, waiting. It confused him. Why wait for things when you could fill your life up with action? That’s the motto he went by, at least. He thought Dad did, too, because he was always leaving him with Techno and Wilby. They always took care of him. Sometimes better than Dad, but they could never replace him.</p><p> </p><p>Baked potatoes. They had fucking baked potatoes for dinner, because of course they had to have had Tommy’s least favorite food. At least Techie enjoyed it, because if everyone hated it he would’ve been miserable. He poked at the skin of the potato with a sour expression, cutting the tiniest bit with his fork and putting it into his mouth. Phil had looked at him with pity, which he hated, and mouthed “please eat,” or something like that. </p><p> </p><p>He ended up eating a quarter of it and going to brush his teeth. Phil had pushed the plate to Wilbur, who had only been given half a potato. Phil hadn’t had anything to eat. After all, it was nearing winter, and they had barely enough food to last. Wilbur, at least, had been thankful for the extra food, and smiled a smile that could make anyone pity him.</p><p> </p><p>Techno was waiting for him in his room, like he expected. He was holding a book with a leather binding, and it looked old and worn. It probably came from his house, because Tommy had never seen that book in his life, and he’d been to Dad’s secret library. Not that he had to know, because it was secret. Tommy had found it while cleaning the house with Wilbur, to surprise Dad and Tech. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> (Apparently, there was a creaky worn floorboard that could easily be removed to find a dark hole with water going all the way down. Wilbur pushed him in, and about three hours later, he came back with three books with a weird language written on them stashed in his inventory, sopping wet. He apologised profusely, saying he was really worried, and Tommy brushed him off, saying he found something. A week later, Techno came over, and helped him figure out what the words said. He didn’t ask questions.) </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Tommy, get in bed, this story is a long one.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy quickly obliged, jumping into his bed and scrambling to get under the covers. He grinned, grabbing his pillow and turning it the other way and laying his head down. After five seconds of laying there, he rolled onto his side, hugging the corner of the pillow that his arm ran into. His eyes looked to Techno’s, and they locked for a moment, before he cleared his throat and opened the book to what seemed to be the middle of it. Maybe the book had a lot of little stories! He’d like that.</p><p> </p><p>“The story of Theseus,” he began, “His story began when his father, Aegeus, was allowed to have a child. He was the king of Athens. Tommy, stop poking me with your toes- When Theseus reached adulthood, his mother, who isn’t really important, but her name is Aethra, sent him to Athens.”</p><p> </p><p>“On his way there, he encountered a lot of mythical beasts and others, but for good reason. For example, he killed Sinis, the Pine Bender, who killed his victims by ripping them apart with two pine trees- Don’t worry, Tommy, he isn’t alive anymore, Theseus killed him- and then Sciron, a cruel man who kicked his victims off a cliff into the sea when they were washing his feet. Sciron died the same way. Ironic, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“And then, he killed Procustes, who let his victims rot away, either stretched to fit his iron bed, or legs cut off for the same purpose- Yeah, gruesome, I know- And Theseus killed Cercyon, who force-wrestled people or something.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, after all those adventures, he finally reached Athens, where he found his father married to the sorcerer Medea, who found him before his dad did and tried to convince his dad to poison him. He didn’t, though, being a loving dad and all. He actually declared Theseus heir to the throne. And then, after a while of being super happy, something that could’ve been considered the end, a conspiracy spread by Aegeus’ brother.”</p><p> </p><p>“Theseus quickly crushed it, going to slay the beast haunting them. The bull of Marathon, who breathed fire, was quickly killed, and he returned alive. After this, yet another adventure called to him. The legendary Cretan Minotour, locked up in a labyrinth that was deemed unescapable. Theseus knew how to overcome it, though; He brought a rose red string with him to mark his path, and yet again, he got out alive, the Minotaur dead.”</p><p> </p><p>“But, before he went out, he promised one thing to his father; He’d return with white sales if he was alive. He forgot to raise them, and Aegeus flung himself off the cliffs, in sorrow, and drowned. Theseus, after this, flees somewhere else. And I think he gets locked up by Hades, in the Underworld. Someone gets them out though. When he returned to Athens, he was attacked by Menestheus. After a long fight, and after he got exiled, somewhere, he curses the Athenians, and he sails away to Scyros.”</p><p> </p><p>“The king of the island took no mercy on the exiled man, and easily flung him off a cliff. He died that day, and almost no one mourned. Tommy, do you know what this means? It means good things don’t happen to heroes. You don’t have to be a hero, Theseus, and you don’t have to end up like him. You’ll be alright.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy had looked at him, with wide eyes, and nodded. He was wide awake now, going over the words Techno had said to him in his head. He heard the door close, and he didn’t see his uncle anymore. All he saw was darkness, really, since Tech had taken the torch with him. He pulled the covers tighter around himself, and let his arms slip under the blanket. He was fucking cold, no matter how much the thick blanket could do. Wilbur was going to come in soon, though, and he was always warm. That was good. Wilbur would warm him up, and then he could fall asleep.</p><p> </p><p>When he heard the door open, he immediately shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Wilbur noticed, obviously, and set down the torch, climbing into the bed and hugging his little brother.</p><p> </p><p>“Toms?”</p><p> </p><p>With this, he reluctantly opened his eyes, opening to Wilbur’s grin, though it was quickly replaced with concern when he remembered the context. “Wilby?” He asked, voice quiet and wobbly. Wilbur only hugged him tighter, and he fell asleep to soft, gentle humming.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Tommy grabbed his netherite sword, sharpening it next to his brother, “If we win, we aren’t going to blow L’manberg up. Alright?”</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur nodded, weakly, and he hoped it was because he was focused, and not because he was lying. Eventually, he pushed through the soft dirt entryway, and began to run through the grass, and the sounds of footsteps following him calmed him immensely. Unreasonably well, one could say. When they reached the forest of L’manberg, Tommy smiled, and he noticed his brother only gave it a grim stare. He let it go, though, and forgot about it the moment after, heading towards one of the L’manberg Space Program towers.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur nearly died. He had to eat 3 golden apples, because of only two bow shots from Schlatt, who recently shot with his terrible aim. Tommy tried to give him armour, even just an unenchanted chestplate that barely gleamed in the sunlight, but he refused, keeping his word about never wearing armour. Curse him and his promises, Tommy would think, continuing to rush him towards Technoblade and the others.</p><p> </p><p>Technoblade was waiting for them, leading with a group of around 10 people (when he squinted, he could make out Fundy, Eret, Tubbo, Quackity, and he thinks Niki, but the rest were a blur of gleaming netherite, “Alright. People. I may have had a secret.”</p><p> </p><p>The secret was fucking huge. Seriously, a secret base under a secret base under a not-so-secret base. The blackstone brick walls screamed power and in front of them were five sets of fully maxed out netherite armour pieces. Holy. Fucking. Shit. This was insane! There were so many chests, too, filled with things from damage arrows to potions to pearls. Tommy had never seen so many strength pots in his life, and he’d ran a drug cartel!</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Holy shit! Holy fucking shit, Technoblade, what the fuck! What the fuck, Technoblade!?”</p><p> </p><p>He quickly grabbed around a stack of golden apples, and put them in his inventory. He already had netherite armour, so he didn’t take any, but he did take on of the netherite axes. He was so happy! They were gonna win, and take back L’manberg. He shot a grin towards Techno, who locked eyes with him, and nodded, and it instantly made him feel safe, in the little bunker, even hearing him yell at Tubbo for taking precious emerald blocks from him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I’m not wearing this armour.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Tech- Techno!?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Wilbur. I need to speak with you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em><br/><br/>“I wish, on behalf of Manberg, to surrender.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “We won!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Schlatt. Schlatt, I had a dream, and I followed you! But you- You ruined it, you motherfucker, you ruined my dreams!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Schlatt is dead. I wish to give the presidency to Tommy. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You- It- It was meant to be!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I can’t do this. I need the discs.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “President Tubbo!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Tommy,” Technoblade screamed, before quietly muttering “Theseus” to the young boy, snapping him out of his thoughts more than his scream ever could, and back to the wither skulls in his hands, “Let me tell you a story. The story of Theseus. He slayed the Minotaur. But his country, they exiled him. They exiled him, and he died. He died in disgrace from his country, Tommy. That’s what happens to heroes. Do you really just want power? Pathetic.”</p><p> </p><p>“I just- I just wanted L’Manberg-”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to be a hero, Tommy? Do you? That’s okay. If you want to be a hero, Theseus,” He called, turning his back to gently set down the skulls onto the gentle moans of the soulsand, “Then die like one.”</p><p> </p><p>Chaos. Chaos. Chaos. He locked eyes with Technoblade once more, for what felt like forever, before the withers started flying, exploding everything in their path. Wilbur was long gone, and he was confused about where he was, and where he himself was, even, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The rocks below him quickly crumbled, as a puff of dust surrounded him and he fell into a crater. He didn’t even realize, really, all he felt was eyes on him. Techno’s eyes, and they made him crumble more than the rocks</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t really gather that Wilbur exploded L’manberg. He had to have Tubbo come and tell him, gather him from the rubble. He couldn’t think straight. All he knew was that he couldn’t be Theseus, he couldn’t be, he couldn’t be, he couldn’t! He knew that, or at least, he tried to convince himself he did. Tubbo carried him to a small chair, where there were others surrounding him, and made a small speech about friendship and fixing things or whatever. Tommy didn’t know. All Tommy knew was he wasn’t Theseus, and he couldn’t see anything but Techno’s eyes. His white fucking glowing eyes.</p><p> </p><p>He felt hands surrounding him, again, and then Tubbo was carrying him to the bench. His eyes were glossed over, and he watched as his house crumbled to bits in front of him, and he didn’t really realize until he felt stones at his feet. He trudged over to his house’s remains, on autopilot, reaching for his discs and inviting Dream of all people to listen with him. He sat back down on the bench. He let the music fill his ears. He fell asleep. He woke up with tears staining his cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>Sleep. Eat. Go back to sleep because you have nothing left to live for. Repeat. Until you don’t repeat, because Tubbo forces you out of bed, to go see New L’Manberg, even though he told you L’Manberg was gone some days ago.</p><p> </p><p>He looked at the wooden buildings in awe, though a part of his mind whispers that it wasn’t fireproof. He walks towards the camarvan and smiles, caressing it with his hand. </p><p> </p><p>“Tommy! Tubbo was telling me about you, my name’s Ranboo!” </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t look up, just continued staring at the stone, then the wheel, but then the stone again. Inside, he noticed, there were brewing stands. It really was the same. He smiled at it, though when he felt a hand on his shoulder he looked up, and grinned at the new person, “‘Ello, Ranboo! Wanna go commit some crimes?” Because why not? What was stopping him? The country, his country, his life, was back! So, so was he!</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, I mean, sure- Why not?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> A few hours later, and half a house gone, they returned, saying goodbye and sleeping peacefully. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Tommy! What were you thinking!?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “It wasn’t Ranboo! It was just me, and it was the perfect crime! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You could’ve killed me, dickhead!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <br/><br/>“We need to have a meeting with Dream.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Probation? Alright.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Just until December third. Just do it, Tommy.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I don’t give a fuck about Spirit.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The day of. It was December fourth, and he was terrified. So was Tubbo, but he hid it under a stern glare and commanding words. He had a meeting with Fundy, Ranboo, and Tommy, but it was mostly just arguing and yelling. They slowly climbed the obsidian walls, rope thin under their weight. Dream was already up there, waiting with that damned mask.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Tubbo.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Tommy- I am so, so sorry.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Dream, I think it would be best… If Tommy were to be… exiled.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Tubbo!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Tommy, come with me.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Tubbo, you’re acting kind of like Schlatt.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “What the fuck, Tubbo!?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Do you have food? It’s gonna be a long journey.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Hello, Ghostbur.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “No, you’re exiled from the entire DreamSMP. Everything that has been touched.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You’re gonna have to row, because my arms are too weak.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The water was sickly clear, and he could see the reflections of his home that he was currently forced away from in the ripples. He hated it, because if he flicked his eyes upward he could see the way the mask was also looking into the water, as if mocking him.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted his brother. He had a shell of him. He wanted his uncle. He had a broken nickname and the memory of glowing white eyes amidst explosions to remember him by. He wanted his dad. He killed his fucking brother. He wanted his discs. He had some, but not the ones he truly wanted. He had neither Cat nor Mellohi, and those were all he fucking cared about. If he- If he couldn’t have L’manberg, couldn’t he have those of equal value? After all, they were traded! He traded them! He-</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He didn’t know. He didn’t know what he was to do. Armour in the pit, go to the nether, hope he dies, get back, say bye to Dream, eat, sleep. Repeat. Repeat again. Repeat one more time. And another. And a few more, until Dream dragged him by the ear to his little work in progress to get away from this place. And it's gone. All his progress, demolished with the click of a lighter and the hiss of tnt. And in retaliation, he towered , and towered , and towered, and towered, until he couldn't see the ground, and contemplated. Dream. Friends. Enemies. He jumped.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy found himself getting up, drenched in water, and walking in whichever way didn’t point to Tubbo, according to the compass he left in his enderchest. Dream was gone. He didn’t have to be friends with Dream, he didn’t have to die, he wasn’t Theseus, he repeated in his head, on loop, as he began to trudge through the snow. This was fine.</p><p> </p><p>It was not fine. It was cold, and Tommy could barely see, and he could barely breathe, but he kept walking, because he saw a torch in the distance, and that meant light. He was ninety percent sure that light meant life, and also warmth, and he was so fucking cold. He understood Wilbur, now, he was always cold. Tommy was always cold. Wilbur used to be so warm. At least Tommy didn’t lose anything, didn’t plummet. Unless he did.</p><p> </p><p>The torch trail led to a cabin, and he walked into it because it was so fucking warm. He didn’t mind that his toes looked purple, or that he was leaving tracks of snow throughout the house, or that he accidentally splashed weakness on himself instead of strength because he could barely see, and now he couldn’t see anymore than a foot in front of him, so he just dug down a few meters, dug a little room out, and fell asleep on the cold stone floor. After ringing a loud and annoying bell that alerted anyone and everyone to his presence, of course.</p><p> </p><p>Technoblade found him fairly quickly. He was asleep, like he had been for the past two days, and Techno murmured, “Theseus, what have you done?” to himself as he slowly bandaged Tommy’s arms, alarmed at his toes before dashing throughout the house with him in his arms, getting to the fireplace and setting him almost dangerously near.</p><p> </p><p>His head was all fuzzy. He went to rub his eyes, but found that he didn’t want to move, and didn’t even open them. He heard footsteps, and was mildly alarmed, before reasoning it was probably just a villager, and he was safe in his little bunker. Until he realized that he was warm, which was weird. He hadn’t been truly burning in years, but this was the day the years would reset back to a big, fat <em> 0 </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re awake, Theseus. I made you a heali-<em> ngpotandyoushouldreallydrinkit. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>He froze. He knew he froze, too, because his arms were no longer twitching and he was curling into a ball, shaking his head, because moving made you breathe, right? That felt write, because it had to have been, because if you exercised you had to breathe, and why couldn’t he breathe? He had to be breathing, since it felt like forever until he felt himself suck in a gasp of air, opening his eyes to meet glowing white ones, and that just made the process start all over again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Technoblade fucked up. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t even look him in the eye anymore, without him swatting uselessly at his face like a little kid and hiding back in his own head. He shouldn’t’ve been surprised. He really, really shouldn’t’ve been surprised but he was and now it was stabbing him in the back and <em> oh </em> he messed it all up, why did he do that?</p><p> </p><p>Well, that was the question, really, the single question he couldn’t fucking answer because he was too busy trying to figure out how to fix the kid in front of him that was clearly broken beyond repair. He ended up wrapping him in a hug, murmuring that he was sorry, but it probably didn’t do much. It did stop the tears that were endlessly rolling down his cheeks, though, so that was an improvement. His cape was getting all snotty, though, and he didn’t really enjoy that part, though he could set it aside. Tommy was more important.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy was infinitely more important, really. To him, at least. He couldn’t let him die Theseus’ death, not when he could help it. He wrapped him in a crimson red cloak, milky white eyes staring at golden hair. Fitting, really, if he was into poetry. Which he was. So he couldn’t complain. And he didn’t. Just sat there, staring down at his friend’s son, who he cared for more than almost anyone, except maybe Phil. Huh. He used to think he was annoying, if he was being honest. Real character growth right there.</p><p> </p><p>He fell asleep. He fell asleep holding Tommy close, and no one saw, and they never spoke of it again. Or the time it happened again. Or again. Nope, never happened.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>well that was a ride<br/>beta read by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/nic_L/pseuds/nic_takes_Ls">nic</a> thank you nic :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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